


Society

by BoyGirlBothNoneImTheUniverse



Category: Original Work
Genre: Apocalypse, Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, Gen, Monsters, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-03
Updated: 2017-10-03
Packaged: 2019-01-08 15:52:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12257469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BoyGirlBothNoneImTheUniverse/pseuds/BoyGirlBothNoneImTheUniverse
Summary: They all just want to be beautiful.





	Society

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Unknown Stage](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1581185) by [BoyGirlBothNoneImTheUniverse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BoyGirlBothNoneImTheUniverse/pseuds/BoyGirlBothNoneImTheUniverse). 



> this is a rework of my other Original Work "The Unknown Stage". A little over a three year time difference.

The news has flashed on a constant loop for the past seven hours. Jude has watched Ms. Jennifer Leek for the past seven hours as her voice cracks and she tries to keep her calm. Jude sat quietly as she chokes back a noise, clears her throat, and repeats for the seventh time that officials have no idea what's causing the chaos that's sweeping through the country.

Jude listened quietly as Ms. Leek looked straight into the camera and told the nation that hope was futile.

Jude glances to his right and takes in the dark look his father is wearing. He started yelling at the first broadcast, screaming and hollering until his face was red and sweating. His mother had just stood there like usual, not even flinching when his father got too close to her face, spittle flying in his exuberant anger.

He quit yelling when the broadcast turned back on and showed the same footage for the third time in a row.

His parents have been quietly arguing for the past hour and a half and Jude had let his mind wander. He waits for the eighth rendition of the same broadcast to come up on the tv, but instead of the chime of the nightly news report, the sound cuts off just as the power goes out, leaving them in almost complete darkness. There's a battery powered lamp that stays lit in the kitchen, the light only barely reaching them in the front room.

"We're not staying here, that's for damn sure," his father grumbles, huffing as he propels himself out of his lazy boy chair. It rocks back and forth, casting a shadow that rolls from one wall to another after his father's sharp departure. He stomps his way out of the front room and into the kitchen, his steps turning from muffled thumps to slaps as he crosses the kitchen's linoleum floor. Each slap causes Jude to flinch slightly, memories of his face resting against the cold floor swimming to the front of his mind.

"And where do you propose we go, Frank?" his mother asks softly. She's pale, her eyes sunken in and her cheek bones are sharp and unforgiving. Her wrists are incredibly thin and Jude knows that if the room was lighter he'd be able to see the veins bulge across her hands as she wrings them nervously. She makes no move to try and catch sight of her husband in the kitchen, instead keeping her head down. Her eyes are shadowed over, hiding her emotions, but Jude knows the familiar sight of glazed over green eyes would be the only thing he saw.

"Town hall," his father snaps from in the kitchen. He stomps his way back in and Jude can see enough of his profile to brace himself for the flashlight that is thrown his way. He catches it, fumbling only a moment when the sting of the hard case against his palm causes him to wince. "Go grab what you need, boy," his father says harshly, already heading back into the kitchen.

His mother rises after him, her worn yellow dress softly fluttering as she follows her husband into the kitchen. Her footsteps are so light that Jude only knows that she's reached the kitchen by the resounding smack that floats in through the small hall connecting the two rooms.

Jude says nothing at the sound as he stands and heads down the opposite hall to his bedroom. He flicks the flashlight on as he loses the soft glow from the kitchen. He finds his heart starting to beat faster, his nerves picking up as he goes farther into the darkness of the hall. There's strange shadows being cast on the wall due to the flashlight and Jude tries his best to ignore them. The hall is empty of any decorations, a stark whiteness that is illuminated in the sea of darkness surrounding it. The carpet below his feet is thick and green on a good day, but now in the dark it looks black and sludge like. He ignores this as well.

Jude stops in front of his room and pushes open the door, taking a moment to take in the image his room presents. The clothes piled up in the corner are not even a foot away from his empty clothes basket. He flashes his light to the left and sees his out of date PlayStation left open, an array of open games scattered around it from where he'd left them when his father had called him into the front room earlier. His bend is unmade and his old TV sits on a crate across from the top of his bed.

He steps into his room and is about to search for something to pack clothes into when he hears a screech and a crash come from the other side of the house. Jude immediately fumbles to turn off his flashlight and tries to keep his breathing from turning harsh and panicked. He closes his eyes and tries not to let the sob he's choking down escape him. He doesn't know what the crash was, but he's been in similar situations long enough to know not to make noises in situations of uncertainty caused by violence. He thinks back on sore wrists and hand shaped bruises and tightens his eyes.

His mother is screaming and it feels distant, as if Jude isn't in the same house. He tries so hard to disassociate from reality when he hears her cries of pain. His father is cursing up a storm, getting louder. There's a desperate quality lacing throughout the shouts that Jude's never heard before. His father's voice becomes more panicked as his mother's screams cut off. He's never heard his father sound scared before, only ever angry. There's a loud thumping crash and his father stops shouting.

There's silence for a moment before Jude hears a scuffling sound coming down the hallway. A wet dragging sound and an almost constant thump, as if something is rhythmically hitting the wall. It stops half way up the hall and then Jude is left in a deafening silence. The silence is always a warning before a storm.

Jude knows that he's not thinking clearly. He knows that what he just heard is going to be something that will scar him for the rest of his life. His father always made sure of that. It's unfortunate that he has no window in his room, so it's impossible possible for him to climb out and avoid whatever atrocity that's been left in the hallway. He briefly wonders if he should still go about packing. He turns away from his room instead, heading back into the hallway.

He stands in that dark hallway for what seems like hours before he finally raises his arm and flicks his flashlight back on.

The blood in the hallway looks thick and sticky, and it paints the wall in a morbid scene of slashes that contrast nicely against the stark whiteness of the walls. It drips down from even the ceiling, a sickening blood rain falling from a ceiling as white as a cloud. It will surely stain, Jude dazedly thinks.

Jude bends over and immediately pukes after said thought. He drops the flashlight and lets his hands grip onto his knees as he leans forward. He makes the mistake of glancing at the hall floor only to be met with a red lump curled against the wall. It looks like a skinned raccoon, red muscles on display as the blood oozes out, only it's far bigger than the small nocturnal animal, and Jude knows beyond a doubt that it's one of his parents.

He pukes again, but there's nothing left in his stomach and the bile burns as it comes up.

He starts to sob, the overwhelming choking sensation he's been holding back finally breaking through. He's gasping, his breath short, as he cries until his eyes sting. His grip on his knees has tightened and he knows that his nails must be near embedded in his knee cap with how hard he's gripping onto them. His fingers burn with the force he's using.

He stays still for so long that eventually his hands and legs cramp up. Jude keeps his eyes closed and when he finally opens them his flashlight has died and the only light left is the distant glow of the battery powered kitchen light coming in from the front room.

Jude walks past the lump and he feels himself crack as he notices that the muscles are still twitching.

The light from the kitchen reflects off of the TV and startles him when he enters the front room. His breathing is still coming short, but his sobs have turned into silent tears, and he knows from old scars and a broken rib that eventually the tears will turn into a numb silence that leaves his brain almost catatonic. He craves that feeling of numbness, not wanting to acknowledge how utterly terrified he is.

He doesn't see another body, only more pools of blood, and he wonders what happened to it. Wonders which of his parents was laying skinned in the hallway and which has disappeared to an unknown, but certainly bloody fate. Where they went and what exactly had taken them.

When he enters the kitchen, he takes note of the broken glass on the floor and the screen door that's hanging on its hinges. He stands around, shifting from foot to foot as he takes it all in. He finally comes to a decision and heads towards the sink and goes about moving chemicals from underneath to rest them on the blue linoleum floor. With each new bottle he places on the floor, another memory of late night chores rushes past him. Cleaning out the area below the sink and seeing the hatchet. The thoughts that would float up, images fueled by desperation and scared revenge. He finds what he's looking for and carefully extracts the hatchet from where it was against the back of the wall.

He leaves the chemicals out in the open, along with his memories, and slips on an old pair of sneakers before he heads through the open door, choosing not to look back.

Jude walks out into his yard and shivers slightly in the early morning fog. The dew on the ground is seeping into his sneakers, but he chooses to pay it no mind as he turns left and heads towards the road behind his house. The air is deceptively quiet as he treks his way there, no birds are singing as the sun just barely peaks its way above the horizon, and no cars are driving on the bumpy roads. The silence outside is usually peaceful compared to the cramped silence inside, but something is different this morning.

He stays on the sidewalk, years of remembered lectures inclining him not to walk in the middle of such a dangerous place. He gives brief thoughts to his father's last lecture and is proud of himself for not flinching. The belt he'd received after his father's rant had left marks along his back for over a week. The abrasions had been hot to the touch for hours after the beating.

Jude looks both ways before crossing the street and he wonders at the fact that this measure is so ingrained, that even as he's leaving the scene of a gruesome crime, he still finds it in himself to practice road safety. A flash of the lump he left in the hallway returns to the front of his mind and he swallows down whatever is trying to come up.

Town hall isn't even two minutes away by car, so Jude knows he can make it easily in five minutes at a brisk walk. He sees no one outside on his way, the street devoid of any other human beings, but he swears he might've seen that old pervert Mr. Brown peeking out from his upstairs window. Jude's father was close with Mr. Brown and he'd been forced to spend many family dinners with the man. Jude takes in the irony that he feels some type of relief that there might be others out there, even if they are convicted child molesters.

Jude needs to stay vigilant, needs to stop focusing on trivial things and instead never stop looking for danger, but the weight in his arm is pulling at his side and he feels the usually ache in his ribs that always comes when he's being too active. His broken rib had healed years ago, but whenever he tries to lift something for too long, a sharp pain would race through his side. He tries to stay focused, tries to keep a watch on everything around him, but his side burns with pain. He switches the hatchet to his other hand and closes his eyes as he stops for a moment, willing this pain, just like the rest of it, to go to the back of his mind, where it's not in the spotlight.

He hears the bush to his right rustle and he's so surprised he almost pees himself. He stays frozen, not even turning his head in the direction of the noise. He does let his eyes wander, however, toward the full bush beside him. He doesn't see anything, not even a stray cat, so he slowly lifts his foot and lets his panic slowly consume him as he tries his best to calmly walk away.

He's breathing erratically in terror when he makes it to the steps of town hall. When he reaches the base of the steps he allows himself to let out a large sigh of breath, regulating his breathing. He regrets it when he breathes in and smells the copper rich air around him. He knows he was emotionally compromised in his house, and he suspects that if he hadn't been so shocked and disgusted, he would've picked up on the copper smell of blood while he was home. Now that he's seen what he has, the sight of a crimson drenched staircase doesn't shock his nose into not working.

The sharp, coppery sting of the smell makes his eyes water.

He doesn't see anybody, alive or dead, and wonders if they perhaps met the same fate as one of his parents had. He decides he isn't going to go into the building, not with the risk that there is more than just blood on the inside and turns back toward the main drag leading up to the building.

He drops that hatchet and feels pee trickle down his leg, wetting his pants, as he stares in horror at the thing watching him from the middle of the road.

The face that stares at him is deformed in a truly ghastly manner. Jude chokes back a noise as he realizes that the reason the face is so smooshed and ugly looking, colors clashing together, is because it's multiple faces put together. The thing's arms hang loose at the side of its body, reaching all the way to its bent, dog like hindlegs. Its entire being was covered in different sized strips of skin, some hanging off. Jude wonders what's keeping them attached in the first place.

The thing tilts its head, much like a confused dog would. "Help," it softly screeches. Jude winces, he can't help it, and he stares in fear at the creature. It can talk. It's wearing other people's faces and it can talk.

"Help me," the creature croons softly. "Help me be beautiful."

Jude turns and runs. He gasps and tries to get his brain working again as he springs up the steps and around to the other side of the building. He doesn't hear the creature, but seeing as he never noticed the creature approach him in the first place, he doesn't have much hope of hearing it now that he can't hear anything over the sound of the blood rushing in his ears.

He doesn't plan his route, just runs on instinct, and that's what ultimately screws him over. There's been construction down on Washington Avenue for over a year now and Jude doesn't even think to look at the street sign. He turns onto the street and immediately crashes into a road closed sign.

He skids across the asphalt and cries out as he feels his skin tear on his arm. The back of his head bounces off the road with a sickening smack and he loses his sight for a few seconds. When he woozily blinks himself back into seeing again, the creature is not even five feet away from him.

Its eyes are brown, Jude notes, as he tries to keep his sudden need to vomit at bay.

"You need to help me be beautiful," is the sentence Jude hears before the creature stalks up to him and proceeds to rip his flesh from his muscles.

It's excruciating, Jude knows it is, and he watches in morbid fascination as the creature meticulously peels the skin from his forearm and applies it to itself. He stares as the creature lays the skin smoothly along his arm, covering a patch that had laid bare before. Blood is what keep it attached, Jude realizes. The blood dries to the mess already there, and it sticks to the creature. Jude gets to wonder for a brief moment why the creature doesn't kill its victims before it skins them and then the pain finally registers and Jude screams. The shock had left him too numb to notice the violent pain radiating from his arm before, but now it's all he can focus on.

He screams and screams and soon his screaming stops sounding like a human's and soon starts to sound like a dying feral animal. He screeches and wonders why he can't move, can't even attempt to get his limbs to work and escape, but then he's distracted from that line of thinking, the creature moving from his arm to his face, and he screams again.

His face is gone by the time the creature is done with him. Blood is everywhere and Jude wonders how he isn't dead yet. There's no way someone can be skinned and still live, Jude thinks. His tears sting as the meet his skinless face. It's not possible for a human to be able to live through this hell, right?

The creature is looking down at him with its big doe eyes, like he's something important. Like Jude has just given the damn thing a gift. His face is clutched in the creature's grasp, it's talon like finds digging into the blood-stained skin. The creature tears his face in half, dropping the unwanted skin onto the ground. It takes the bottom half of his face and places it on the lower portion of its face, the blood squelching as the creature pushes down on it, securing it just below the area where its nose should be.

"Thank you," the creature giggles. "I'm very pretty."

The creature hunches over and walks on all fours as it goes toward another part of the construction site. Jude resigns himself to being left there to bleed out, when suddenly the creature is back. It drops a broken piece of glass in front of him and it takes Jude a second to realize it's a piece of broken mirror. The creature finagles with it until it's resting against the knocked over road closed sign. When the creature moves out of the way, Jude is confronted with the sight of his own gory, skinless face.

"So ugly," the creature mourns, taking steps away from Jude. It sits there and watches Jude see his newly mutilated face.

Jude stares at his reflection, shock and dismay seeping into his being. He no longer has a face. His skin has been torn away from him, his bushy eyebrows and the chapped skin on his lips are gone. No scar across the right side of his face, the area by his temple where it used to sit is bare of skin. He has no identity.

"Need help," the creature says softly. "Need help?"

"I…," Jude gurgles out, his gaze not leaving his reflection's. He stares into his brown eyes and the last independent thought he has is that he thought his eyes were green.

"I'm so ugly," he sobs out, his body finally twitching from its previous paralyzed state.

"Need help," the creature says firmly.

"Yeah," it chokes out. "Yeah, I need help."

The creature doesn't move from its place a few feet away, just sits on its haunches and continues to let the body mourn its lost beauty.

"Need help," the body whispers to the creature. Its eyes transfer from the mirror to its companion. "Need help," it croons, its voice sliding into a deep, smooth tone.

The companion just nods in understanding.

They all just want to be beautiful.

**Author's Note:**

> I am also using this for a class assignment: ENG 3610, in case TurnitIn flags me lol


End file.
